


Buenas Tardes Amigo

by hellsheep



Category: A Way Out (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Gen, Short, Somewhat happy end, still a sad end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2019-04-26 21:42:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14411142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellsheep/pseuds/hellsheep
Summary: There's always a way out.





	Buenas Tardes Amigo

**Author's Note:**

> So I finished A Way Out and I felt betrayed by the end the same way Leo felt betrayed by Vincent. Like: hey, player decisions don't matter after all! But then I decided to give it my try for a third ending. Please note that english isn't my native language so please forgive me my mistakes - but feel free to show them to me!

He's been set up.

Everything has just been _lies_ from the moment he saw Vincent stepping into the prison. And in the end, Leo thought, there was no way out.

But it wouldn't be him. There would be an end, yes, but not _his_ end. Leo was a survivor, he had to be, for his wife, for Alex. And even though this time was different; well no, it wasn't different at all. He got betrayed, he got beaten up but he would live.

It's basically what defines him.

 

Only thing he had to do was getting the gun. Slowly and in eager pain he crept forward, inch for an inch, heavy rain hitting his face, hiding tears of pain, anger, disgust – and sorrow. Taking a breath was hard work and he even had to concentrate on breathing when he saw in the corner of his eyes that Vincent was actually on his feet, faster than him, getting to the gun before he could. Leos eyes widened. No, nononono. _He had to live._

 

And while he pushed himself further, the gun finally was getting in range and with a heavy feeling of panic that Vincent would just be faster than him, he turned his head a bit.

He saw Vincent. And that asshole of a goddamn betraying motherfucking cop had stopped walking. He was just standing there, holding on to the railing, breathing as heavy as Leo did. His eyes where fixed on the man with the black hair, the man he dared to call friend, partner and there was this deep sadness in his gaze that Vincent always tried to hide.

But not this time.

 

He was silent, though, when Leo grabbed the gun and turned around. Everything seemed to happen so slow. In reality, Leo knew, just seconds passed by but it felt like hours, maybe even like a lifetime.

It wouldn't be him.

He had to live.

For his family.

He would survive.

 

Slowly Leo pulled the gun up. He didn't even bother to wonder why Vincent still wouldn't move, wouldn't even try to grab him or jump away, anything.

 

Leos hands were shaking bad. Maybe from pain. Maybe from suffering. Maybe from exhaustion. But maybe it was something else. But when he aimed for Vincents chest and pulled the trigger, he was steady and what ever made him pull away in the last seconds must have been something on his mind – or his heart.

 

There wasn't even an outcry, just a muffled sound Vincent made when the force of the shot hit him and brought him down to his knees. Leo blinked. He couldn't see a thing. Was it rain that blurred his vision so hard? He wiped his face and slowly, very slowly got on his feet again.

Vincent was still on his knees, his head dropped. Leo couldn't see his face, but Vincent pressed one hand against his shoulder, where dark blood mixed with the rain on his clothes. The shot hasn't been lethal but it must hurt as fuck. Still Vincent remained silent.

 

Leo threw the gun away. It made a muffled sound when it hit the ground meters below the roof they were standing.

“Leo...”, he heard Vincent say, his voice cracked.

“Don't say a fucking thing, traitor”, Leo managed to mumble through gritted teeth. Vincent didn't listen to him.

“I couldn't. A-and I'm sorry for wh-what I've done. But I feel no... regret. I just couldn't... let you die by my hands.”

Leo couldn't even get angry anymore. He was just too tired of everything.

“You were my friend”, Vincent said.

“Yes... I was. You were my friend, too. But I hope... we never see each other again.”

“We won't”, Vincent promised and Leo took his leave.

It was a long way home.

But he would survive.

He always did.

 

 

 

Buenas tardes amigo  
hola, my good friend  
cinco de mayo's on tuesday  
and I hoped we'd see each other again

 

Ween – buenas tardes amigo

 


End file.
